ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES, JANUS THICKEY WARD; 18TH JUNE 1977
"It's been a month, surely you can wake the girl by now," Bartemius Crouch Senior, or Barty for short, was complaining to the healer in charge of the mysterious patient. "She's a part of an ongoing investigation, you can't leave her in a coma to avoid the repercussions coming for her!" The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was ranting, and not for the first time since the girl's arrival. Even with being only in his early forties, the man looked much more aged than one would have expected of him. The wrinkles around his eyes were deep and the bag dark, when the hat he always wore shifted, the grey roots of his hair could be seen under the dyed brown.
"Sir, she has extensive injuries that have only just been healed. The spell damage to her body was nothing like we'd ever seen before, not to mention the brain injury she suffered, as I've told you each time you've come into my hospital to pester me. I'm not going to rush her to wake before she's ready, don't call me, I'll call you when that time comes." Healer Walters, an older gentleman who'd been called out of retirement when this case had come in, was not one to be pushed around by anyone. That included law enforcement, even the head of the department.
"I have a warrant for her arrest upon awakening!" Crouch nearly screamed, his face turning red and the hairs of his moustache to stick out in odd directions. "You will either wake her up or I'll have her moved to a ministry holding cell!"
"Neither of those things are going to happen, Crouch," Walters said, stepping forwards, putting himself between the irate man and the innocent girl. "We've dated her age, she's only a minor and has an unknown identity. So, unless you're charging her with murder or the use of an unforgivable, she'll be staying here under my care."
Walters crossed his arms over his chest watching Crouch's jaw clicking in irritation. Saying nothing else, the man adjusted the top hat he wore and stormed from the floor in a huff. The nurse that had been caring for the poor girl, even coming in on her off days to check on her, stepped away from where she'd been at the bedside to approach the elder wizard.
"Sir?" She said, her voice soft, but steady, a smile playing at her lips. "Weren't you planning on waking her today anyway?"
"Hm, I suppose I was, wasn't I?" Walters said, smiling down at the middle-aged woman next to him. "Come along, Madam Greengrass, let's wake your sweet girl and see what she can tell us, yes?"
Helen Greengrass smiled at the healer and nodded in agreement. Walking over, she reached out, taking the girl's hand, rubbing circles on the back of it with her thumb as the man began to lift the spells that had kept the unknown girl in a coma while her body healed. She whispered soothing words of support and encouragement knowing the process could be jarring and frightening.
As the girl began to blink, revealing her chocolate brown eyes, Helen smiled at the confused looking girl. When she opened her chapped lips to speak, Helen leaned close, shushing her. "Just a moment, dear," the kind matron whispered to the girl, "you've been in an accident and you're in the hospital. You've been asleep for a while, so I'm going to help you with something to drink and get a little salve for those chapped lips of yours before you try to speak, alright?"
The girl slowly nodded, wincing at the movement, causing Helen to cup the young witch's face in a loving gesture. "You hit your head," she explained, "take it easy and move slowly. Here's something for the pain and a bit of water to help with your dry throat." The matron helped the girl to drink deeply through a straw from the glass she was holding before offering her the pain potion she'd had on hand.
Once Helen was finished treating the girl and she was propped up in her bed with the help of the pillows around her, the matron finally stepped back and allowed Healer Walters to speak with his patient. "Hello young lady, my name is Healer Walters, and this is Madam Greengrass," the elderly wizard said, his tone much gentler than the one he'd used with Crouch only a short time before. "Can you tell me your name?"
The girl cleared her throat, looking at Helen, who nodded, before looking back at the man. "My name is Hermione, sir," she said, her voice cracking from the lake of use as she spoke.
"It's very nice to meet you Ms. Hermione," the healer said, still smiling at the girl, Hermione. "Could you tell me how old you are and your date of birth by chance?"
"I'm sixteen and my birthday is the nineteenth of September," Hermione answered, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Very good, now might you know what your parents' names are? I'm sure they're worried about you, and we'd like to be able to get into contact with them," the man stated. Because that was one of the oddest things about this entire case. The girl, Hermione, was clearly a witch, her magic readings off the charts for someone her age, but there had been no reports made of a missing child in either the magical world or the muggle world for a girl matching her description. Across the globe the DMLE had been looking, trying to uncover the child's identity, but on no continent was she ever reported missing, making her even more mysterious.
"I don't know, sir," Hermione said after a few moments of silence, her eyes unseeing as she tried to reach into the depths of her mind, searching for what should have been a simple answer. "I can tell you about the goblin rebellion of 1433, but I don't know my own parents' names." Hermione answered, her breathing beginning to quicken. Helen had a calming draught at Hermione's lips before the panic attack could take hold, encouraging the young girl to drink the potion.
"That's alright, that's it my sweet girl," Helen said, her voice low as Hermione's chest stopped moving so rapidly. "We'll sort it out together, nothing for you to worry over, that's it," she told her as Hermione closed her eyes, tears leaking from the corners with her words.
"Would you say you've taken your OWL exams then?" Healer Walters asked after a while, not trying to rush Hermione into a conversation she wasn't ready for, but still trying to identify her. "We can always check with the Ministry to see if you have, with your age and birthday I'd suspect you're in your fifth year of schooling, is that right?" That was another thing the DMLE had searched and searched through. Every magical school across the globe had no record or had a missing student that fit Hermione's description. With her awake and speaking, her accent was clearly English, and Helen knew that Hogwarts had been a firm no that they were not missing a student.
"I'm not sure, sir," Hermione answered, her eyes still closed with tears running down her face. "All I know of myself is my name, age, and date of birth it seems. Everything else is lost, and I don't even know what happened to me that would result in finding myself in the hospital." She explained, the tears coming in earnest at this point. "I don't even know if I have a mother."
"Not to worry, dear," Helen said, leaning forwards and brushing the hair off Hermione's forehead where sweat had begun beading. "We'll get your sorted out," she offered, looking at the healer who gave nothing away of what he was thinking.
"Where am I to go?" Hermione asked, her voice even. Helen assumed that if it weren't for the calming draught that Hermione would be nearly inconsolable at this point. "I can't stay in a hospital forever, and I have no money, no family, and no idea who I am. I don't know what to do," Hermione said, tears streaming down her face as it became red and splotchy, her eyes still closed.
When neither Healer Walters nor Madam Greengrass answered, Hermione figured they were just as confused about the next step as she was. The weight of her situation was too heavy to carry any longer, Hermione kept her eyes closed and allowed sleep to take her, even as the two adults stood watching over her. As Hermione's breathing evened out and her head tilted to the side as she slept, Helen couldn't stop watching the girl.
"She's going to need someone who will stand up to Crouch and the Minister to protect her," Healer Walters said, observing the way Helen watched the girl sleep. "Even with her sudden appearance being kept a secret, people are going to ask questions of where she came from, and she's going to need protection. These are dark times we're living in, and a young girl like her won't survive being put in a group home."
"Sir?" Helen asked, looking up at the healer who was smiling at her.
"If memory serves me, I recall you and your husband wishing for a second child after your son was born," he explained, adjusting her robes as he turned to walk away. "She looks a great deal like your husband, same eye colour and similar bone structure to yourself. If there's nothing else, I've learned in all my years of working with youth, there's no greater desire than wanting to belong and having a family."
Helen watched the man continue on his way as he closed the door, he looked at her one last time before winking and then disappearing. Helen turned to look back at the child, the peaceful face she'd studied for the past month, knowing the maternal side of her magic was reaching out and trying to wrap itself around the girl. She'd known her feeling of protectiveness and love for Hermione had grown, and now Helen realised what she was meant to do.
Standing from the chair she'd spent countless hours in, Helen hurried from the room to write to her husband. If there was one thing she could promise sweet Hermione, it was that she was going to be taken care of and that would be one less worry off the poor girl's shoulders.